


I'm No Hero

by tarthserjaime



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Dominant Phasma, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Forbidden Love, Lesbian Phasma, Lesbian Rey (Star Wars), Phasma Redemption, Psychological Torture, Redemption, Self-Hatred, Self-Sacrifice, Slow Burn, Traitor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 07:24:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13735989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarthserjaime/pseuds/tarthserjaime
Summary: Captain Phasma is a traitor. She's sold out the First Order to the Resistance, and now she finds her self in a small cell on a junk planet, sitting in her own self-loathing.Rey's first trip to Ahch-To to bring back Luke Skywalker has failed, and she's stuck roaming the base, feeling like a burden to not only General Organa, but Finn and Poe as well. What happens when she does something she's not supposed to? Can she learn a thing or two about what it means to defend the galaxy from someone who was sworn to destroy it?All the while, Kylo Ren is plotting something awful.





	I'm No Hero

**Author's Note:**

> ahh. i may or may not continue this work depending on how its recieved because its pretty draining. enjoy!

_Traitor._ That’s what she was. The First Order had been the only thing she knew as far back as she remembered and she failed them the minute she lowered the shields on Starkiller base. There wasn’t a day that Phasma woke up from her night terrors since that she hadn’t wished that the trash compactor had crushed her pathetic existence into a mangle of flesh and chrome. _She could still feel her armor, glowing red hot, piercing her skin under the pressure._ However, she was unlucky enough to be spared when the base explosion cut the power and stopped the walls from closing in on her. When the Resistance stormed the remains after the First Order fled to the Finalizer and left her to die, she was dragged from the pit by soldiers, the deep cuts in her chrome suit caked with ashes and blood. Her blood.

Now, here she was. Given a small, dark cell by the pity of General Organa. The first night, the barrier between her and the room her cell was placed in was a strongly electrified barrier that emitted a loud, intimidating hum. She was guarded at all times, as she was, indeed, in a militarized base, but if she was quick enough she could electrocute herself just enough to stop her heart; or slow it down past revival. She stood on weak legs, her red-trimmed black undergarments clinging to her ashen skin has she muttered under her breath.

“Glory to the First Order.”

Her voice had lost its trademark confidence, along with its modulated cadence. The words she spoke weren’t a sure statement of admiration anymore, but rather an empty plea for forgiveness. She pushed herself forward into the current, her muscles stiffening and locking her into place as the strong pulses of electricity surged through her flesh. The loud screeches of electric current caught the attention of the guards, who had began dozing off.

“Hey!” one of them called, charging towards her. He shut off the electrical current and dragged her from the cell. Instead of the pity she received from the higher ranks of the Resistance, the soldier showed her pure loathing, dropping her stunned frame to the ground. “You don't get an easy way out, Order scum.” He spat, kicking her side and releasing a last small jolt of energy from her body. He called to the other soldier has she writhed in pain on the ground. “Summon a droid medic. If she dies it’ll be on us.” Phasma resisted the urge to cough up a clot of blood. She deserved to live like a dog; and die like one too.

Present (5 months later)

Rey felt useless. For the time being she had failed her quest to collect Luke Skywalker and request from him to be trained in the ways of the Jedi. No matter how many times General Organa had tried to reassure her with the promise that in time, Master Luke would come to his senses, Rey knew they didn’t have much time to spare. For the moment, the First Order was knocked off balance, but soon, they’d regain composure and come back stronger. All Rey could do about it was haunt the halls of the Resistance building idly, bothering Lieutenants, Colonels, Pilots, Captains and even General Organa with her constant anxious chatter.

Today, she sat in the X-Wing hangar, biting into an ice pop and awaiting the return of Poe and Finn from Finn’s flight lessons. Her meandering around the control room lately had rewarded her with some information that Finn would certainly want to hear.

“Rey!” Finn dropped his helm to hug his best friend as usual. Rey met his embrace tightly and then held him at a distance, watching Poe Dameron approach them in her peripheral vision. Rey pulled Finn close again and whispered in his ear. Finn’s face darkened as she pulled away. “What? But I thought- Do you know where?”

Rey shook her head. Finn was silent for a moment and bit his lip. “Then we’ll find her.” Rey had to object. People already didn’t like for her to sneak around the base. “Maybe we should consult General Organa about it first. Find out why she’s here and for how long- i-if we can.” Finn was hesitant, but he nodded. He remembered staring back at himself in Poe’s jacket on Starkiller in her polished chrome armor and wondered what it looked like now. Did she even have it still?

“Captain Phasma?”

Leia was walking about the bumbling control room, R2D2 whirring and beeping about behind her. “Why yes, I believe she’s still here. She was captured when we went back to Starkiller base after the defeat of the Superweapon. Within the first two months of her time here she’d given us all of the information about the First Order we needed to know. I’ve honestly forgotten about her since then. Convincing Luke is the main priority for the Resistance and the Republic alike.” The General turned around. “Why?” Rey flushed pink under her superior’s careful gaze. “For Finn’s sake. He’s had a lot of trouble coming to terms with his identity and I thought seeing her locked away would give him- closure, I guess.” Rey looked down and played with her hands. It sounded so stupid out loud. Yet she couldn’t help but read General Organa’s loudest of thoughts. She hadn’t checked on Phasma in months, nor had she gotten any reports. She wasn’t even sure if her cell was guarded anymore.

“Rey, I appreciate your spirit of friendship and the way you care for friends, but even in a contained in a cell and after giving trustworthy information, Captain Phasma is a very dangerous prisoner, and she’s not to be meddled with.” Rey looked up with pleading eyes. She knew how badly Finn needed this. “What if we got an escort? Please, General,” Leia gave her a look that told her arguing was futile. “My apologies, Rey, but I’ve got work to do.” She watched the General walk away before R2 turned his head and made a sad beeping sequence before following. Rey stomped down the long hallways of identical doors. What was she supposed to say to Finn? She’d promised that she could sweet talk the General into permitting him access to at least see Phasma.

The Resistance living quarters on D’Qar were underground, much like many other important base facilities such as the control room and storage. It gave Rey an idea that made her palms sweaty. If she could wander her way about the base without attracting attention, she may be able to find the prisoner’s cells herself. It took Rey hours, but finally, on the floor underneath the common room was a small corridor of poorly lit doors much unlike the rest of the Resistance’s warm and welcoming base labeled “Captives”, five doors to each side and two in the middle. Three of the heavy, metal doors were marked to be occupied; the rest, vacant. Rey closed her eyes. This was proving to be a test of her Force capabilities. She stood unmoving for a while before the hum of the Force came alive within her. Through the first door, she heard the furious whisperings of a traitorous man. Death to the Resistance. Death to the New Republic. Death to this galaxy and the next! Rey shook his chants out of her mind and focused in on the next.

She was about to pick something up when she felt a cold child own her spine. The occupant replied, placing his greeting into her mind. You shouldn’t be here, little one. It’s dangerous. Even I’d tear you to bits given the chance. Rey stumbled backward, thudding down onto the damp cement, caught off guard. Her Force balance was thrown off too, missing her target and causing another door across from her, presumably empty, to fling open. Looking up slowly from the edge of the small pallet she sat on was a rugged woman in plain black garments.

Could it be Phasma? Rey stood up slowly. The woman wasn’t what she had in mind at all. Slowly, she made her way into the small, ever poorer lit room, with an even smaller portion being the actual cell. Rey studied the ex-Captain. Perhaps she once had a neat crop of short hair, but now the blonde mop stopped at her chin at its longest point and covered half of her scarred face and a second blue eye. Phasma tucked it back instinctively, revealing the dent in her nose and a cut scar through her lip. She stood slowly and wordlessly, towering nearly a foot over Rey. The Jedi in training stumbled back, feeling foolish for getting so close to the barrier. The Captain must’ve held her position for a reason. Even through her dirty, black uniform Rey could see that though she’s wasted a bit from hunger, she was heavily muscled and fit for command. Finally, she broke the silence, not making eye contact.

“Have you come to finally mock me, Scavenger? Or beat me like your glorious comrades?” The First Order Captain sounded not malicious, but rather defeated. Tired, even. Rey couldn't find the words to answer her. Not right away. She finally found an answer, but none of the anger she had built up to this point. “Why have you helped us?” Phasma looked down at Rey, her blue eyes remaining level, without a glint of uncertainty. “What?” Rey bit her lip. “You sold out your Order. Why?” Phasma looked down at her own calloused hands, searching them for her answer, when she heard the familiar staccato of soldier issued boots down the hall. “Quick, Scavenger, hide.” But when she looked over, Rey was already gone.

She sighed, sitting back down on the edge of the pile of rags she laid her head on whenever she suspected it to be nighttime. In came one of her issued guards, with a packet of rations and a plastic cup half way full of water. He rapped the cup with a spoon three times and called out in the doorway. “Feeding time at the First Order zoo! What have we got first? Ooo! The infamous traitor.” Phasma said nothing. He was too busy taunting her to notice the open door. Phasma thought of how poor of a Stormtrooper he’d make. He scoffed and flipped the cover on the keypad.

Rey watched carefully for the sequence he punched in and the barrier broke, initiating a countdown. The guard stood a few feet from the cell door, holding out the tray. “Here. Take it.” He egged, wiggling the tray and making the water slosh. Phasma watched longingly, hesitant. Rey watched her run her tongue over her dry bottom lip. Finally, she reached out for the tray, and the barrier snapped back, splitting the tray, the cup, and sadly, her rations, in half. Rey’s chest tightened, expecting her to retaliate, to rage out and break the barrier and kill him with her bare hands or something.

She knew she would. She didn’t know how to feel; she’d never seen a member of the Resistance act this way. She felt her opinions reform as the guard turned and walked away, slamming the door shut and Phasma dropped to her knees, collecting the small pieces of food in one of her palms. “I’ll get the rest.” Rey appeared from her hiding place and began picking up the remaining pieces of food off the ground, before wordlessly scurrying to the keypad. Before Phasma could speak, the whirring of the barrier stopped, and Rey held out the bits of food at arm’s length.

“You aren’t afraid of me, Scavenger? I could pull you through this barrier at any moment.” Phasma’s voice again contained no ill will. Rey said nothing. Phasma took the ration form her hand gently. Her hands were warm. She sat back on the pallet. No thanks, but no injury, either. “I should go.” Rey declared, trying to piece together what’d happened. Phasma gave a curt nod, chewing her food slowly, maintaining the perfect manners of a woman in charge even here. Rey turned to leave, but before she made it to the door, Phasma spoke again. “Scavenger.” Rey sighed. “That isn’t my name. It’s Rey.” Phasma remained calm, ignoring Rey’s declaration. “What time is it?” Rey sat in her quarters that night, staring at the ceiling. What had gotten into her? She didn't express any of her anger to Phasma, or tell her about Finn, or even try to read her.

She just stood there like an idiot. Sure, she pitied the ex-Captain, but she kept in mind all of the unnecessary pain and death she’d caused and reminded herself that she deserved it.


End file.
